“Guy took you to his house using a path that is much longer and it was dark, so everyone went slowly so the horses didn’t step in a hole. Coming back, we used a path that was much, much shorter. Plus, we rode the horses.”
MJ nodded. They went into the house and found that Brooke had prepared them sandwiches.
But had Brooke eaten? She was probably sleeping, but he wanted to be sure she hadn’t gone missing. Leaving MJ eating, he went up the stairs and when he got to the entrance to her room he smiled. Lying on her side facing the door, she wore such a serene expression on her face. He hadn’t realized it, but she was usually full of worry lately. It must be scary to think she had to run the farm herself and then to learn about all the lies. His wife was a powerful woman. He smiled as he quietly backed away and went down the steps.
“Is Ma sick?”
“She’s just napping. I’m thinking it’s a good idea.”
“You do?” MJ frowned. “I guess I think so too.”
Murphy would have to be careful. He’d never had such sway with anyone before. “I’ll clean up here. Why don’t you go on up and rest?”
“Women do the cleaning. I just leave the dishes.”
“Well, MJ, I’ve learned in life that a person should help whenever they can. It’ll only take a minute for me to clean up and maybe it’ll make your ma smile when she sees that she doesn’t have to wash dishes.”
MJ nodded and went up the stairs.
Murphy cleaned up. What were his brothers doing? He missed them. He’d rather take Brooke and MJ back to the ranch, but he didn’t want to lose Brooke. He’d ride to town tomorrow and mail a letter to his family. Yawning, he made his way to his room. It would be heaven to sleep beside his wife again. He’d have to keep reminding himself to take it slow. He lay down on his back and closed his eyes.
Thank you, Lord, for my many many blessings.
* * *
Murphy wrote his letter to his family and was on his way to mail it. Brooke didn’t want to overhear any gossip, so she stayed at the farm with MJ. He just hoped she didn’t try to do all the chores. The look in her eye was different this morning. The outright hostility was gone, but she remained wary. One day soon he hoped to see nothing but happiness in her eyes. That would probably take a bit of time.
His family would be happy for him, but he wasn’t sure they’d understand his need to stay here. His nine brothers were on the Kavanagh ranch in Texas. He bet he wouldn’t recognize some of their children since little ones grew so fast.
He hadn’t gotten a good look at the town before, but now he studied it. The place was just as small as his initial impression had given. He needed to talk to the lawyer and the banker alone, and he needed to do some shopping at the general store. Both Brooke and MJ could use new clothes. Maybe just a few items. It wouldn’t do to overwhelm her and make her mad.
A familiar horse caught his eye. Was that bay Fitzpatrick’s horse? Murphy rode to the horse and slid down off Nugget, then tied him to the hitching post and went around the big bay horse. Sure enough, it wore the Kavanagh brand. Where was Fitzpatrick? It was too early to be at the saloon.
He’d run into him, he figured, in a town as tiny as this. And he still had things to do. After Murphy took care of some business with the bank and the lawyer, he walked to the general store. He looked over the readymade dresses, confused by the sizes.
“Need some help?” asked a man’s voice. “What color hair does your filly have?”
Laughing, Murphy turned and hugged Fitzpatrick. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to pry you away from whichever woman you’re involved with and bring you home.” Fitzpatrick laughed. “She’d best be mighty pretty.”
Murphy frowned. “Most beautiful woman I know.” He turned back to the dresses.
An older woman with a big smile hurried to him. “If you tell me her name, I might know her size.”
“It’s for my wife, Brooke Malery, well, actually her name is Brooke Kavanagh. I need a change of clothes for my son MJ. He’s eight and average size I’d say.”
“I’m Mrs. Harper. I haven’t seen Brooke in a long while…”
“She’s still the same size she was eight years ago.”
A broad smile lit her face. “Why, you must be her dead soldier! It was so tragic, but now it’s a miracle.”
Fitzpatrick stood behind Mrs. Harper. His jaw dropped for a moment, then he shook his head.
Mrs. Harper took a dress off the rack. “This one should fit. The green will look lovely with her red hair. How many dresses do you need?”
“One for the time being. My wife is a very proud woman, and I think one is enough for now.”
Fitzpatrick mouthed, “What?”
“Follow me for the boys’ clothes.” She walked across the store and picked up a pair of trousers and a blue button-down shirt. “What does the boy look like? Blue usually looks good on everyone.”
Murphy grinned. “He looks just like me.”
“Excuse me,” Fitzpatrick interrupted, casting Murphy a sidelong glance. “I need to talk to my brother outside.”
Murphy frowned. “We’ll talk when I’m done. Mrs. Harper, this is my brother Fitzpatrick.” Murphy walked to the ribbons next and selected a green one. He also picked up a wooden top for MJ. He put his things on the back counter and then added four peppermint sticks.
“Howdy, I’m Mr. Harper.” The man’s smile was bigger than his wife’s.
“Murphy Kavanagh. Nice to meet you.”
“Will this be all?” Mr. Harper asked.
“For now. We’ll be back later in the week with the wagon to stock up.” He handed the man cash. “I also have this letter of credit in case my wife or son need to purchase anything.”
“I bet Mrs. Kavanagh is happy you’re back from… Where was it you were?”
He let the question go unanswered and offered a smile instead. “It was nice to meet you.” He gathered up his purchases and left the store. He was busy putting the packages in his saddlebags when his brother walked up.
“What is going on? A wife and a son? You’ll ruin her reputation as soon as people find out you aren’t married to her,” Fitzpatrick hissed.
“I should have mailed the letter sooner.” Murphy sighed. “I’m sorry I worried everyone. Want to meet my family?”
A frown creased Fitzpatrick’s brow, but then he shrugged and nodded.
Chapter Nine
“Ma! Pa has someone with him!” MJ hollered.
“MJ, I’m right here. There’s no need to shout.” Brooke stepped around the clothesline that hid her. It had been wash day. She shook her head. Why did he have to bring someone home today? She was sweaty and dirty from scrubbing the clothes. There was no help for it now, though, as they rode into the yard. Murphy nodded to her.
She pulled her shoulders back and walked as properly as she could. “Hello Murphy. I see you brought a guest.” She turned to his companion. “You must excuse my harried appearance. I was finishing up the wash. I’ll just freshen up.”
“Don’t go,” Murphy said. “It’s just my brother, Fitzpatrick.”
“Ma’am,” he said as he tipped his hat.
“Is there something wrong at the ranch? Is someone sick?” she asked.
“No, ma’am. We just didn’t know where Murphy had gotten himself off to.”
Brooke glanced at Murphy. “Didn’t he tell you where he was?”
“I finally got the information from the telegram that lawyer sent. Did you know telegrams are private? It took a bit of persuading. Murphy never mentioned a wife or son.”
Her face heated in shame. She already knew he hadn’t told his family, but she still felt humiliated. Her heart hurt. When would she ever learn? Fitzpatrick was probably here to take Murphy home and Murphy would go with him.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll make some coffee.” She walked as fast as she could without it looking like she was fleeing. As soon as she entered the house, she heard MJ’s exci
ted voice. The contents of her stomach threatened to come back up. She put on the coffee to boil and ran up the steps to her room.
She had one other dress to wear, although it would be better used as a rag. Still, it would have to do. She washed her face and freshened up. Her hair refused to be tamed, but she needed to get downstairs, so she left it loose. When she got to the kitchen, Murphy was pouring the coffee.
“Would you like a cup?” he asked.
“Thank you.” She sat at the table and smiled at MJ’s enthusiasm. “Tell me, Fitzpatrick, are you married?”
He almost spit his coffee out. “Maybe if Murphy didn’t steal all the single gals, I might have a chance. I swear all he does is sit on porches drinking lemonade with the prettiest gals.”
She stiffened and took a sip of coffee to digest his words. Murphy had said he hadn’t looked at any other women, even though he had thought her dead. And here was his brother painting a vastly different picture for her. Every time she turned around, there was another lie. It got to be tiresome trying to sort out the truth, and it was wearing her down.
“MJ, that means Murphy Junior, right?” Fitzpatrick stared at her as though she was some sort of criminal.
She quickly stood and muttered a few words about getting supper started. If this was how his whole family behaved, she never wanted to meet them. Sounded as though Murphy had a happier life back in Texas with all the pretty gals.
She was cooking pot roast and wished she had more fresh vegetables to add to it. There was plenty of bread, though, and she ended up using the last of her jarred peaches in a cobbler. Did other adults wish they could just run away for a few days?
Murphy hadn’t come in to deny what Fitzpatrick had said. It was disturbing. Murphy could have told her the truth of things. He had thought her dead, or so he said. Maybe his family expected him to marry a better, richer woman. She’d had it with men and how they changed things to suit them.
For six years she’d known Murphy was alive. For six years she wondered what she’d done to make him go away. Every night she tried to think of every conversation they’d had and where’d she’d gone wrong.
She’d taken the bullet out of him and nursed him back to health. They’d gotten on so well he had proposed to her. By that time, her heart was his. How many others had he “married” to have his husbandly rights? Despite what he told her, he must have dated, and from what Fitzpatrick said, Murphy was successful with women. That slashed her deeply. While she was taking care of their son and working the ranch as well as doing all the housework, he was charming ladies.
She put the pot roast to the side of the stove that wasn’t too hot and walked out the back door. She needed to check on the wheat and make sure each seed was covered by dirt. That task would keep her busy for the rest of the day.
* * *
“Where did Ma go?” MJ asked, looking around.
“I’m sure she’ll be right back in. She probably needed more water.”
“But Pa, fetching water is my job.”
“Your ma probably just wanted us men to have some time to ourselves.”
MJ puffed out his chest. “Us men need our time.”
Murphy and Fitzpatrick exchanged smiles.
“Gemma had another girl. They named her Pearl. Teagan sure does dote on his girls. Donnell and Clarissa’s time is coming soon enough. The whole ranch is crawling with babies. Hey, do you think we could go to the saloon tonight?”
“Why? Do you have too much money in your pockets and need to lighten the load by giving it away playing cards?”
“Very funny.”
“This farm will be mine someday,” MJ said proudly. “I’m going to turn it into a cat ranch.”
“Cats!” Fitzpatrick started laughing and couldn’t seem to stop.
“I’ll check on Ma.” MJ walked out the front door, his shoulders slumped.
“Gee, Fitzpatrick, could you think before you speak?”
“What did I do?”
“You told my wife I was spending time with all the females and you laughed at MJ’s cat ranch idea.”
Fitzpatrick laughed again. “You have to admit it’s funny.”
“It’s not funny to him.”
“So, you’re going along with this cat idea? Murphy, it’s stupid and will never work. Why encourage something that will never happen?” Fitzpatrick poured himself more coffee. “Your woman makes excellent coffee.”
“She is my wife,” Murphy ground out.
“So you say.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Obviously, she had your son, but there’s no way you married her. Did she just decide to tell you about MJ because she needs your muscle to run the farm?”
The sun had started to set, and neither Brooke nor MJ had come back. Murphy loved his brother, but he had an enormous mouth and his foot landed in it often.
First Murphy went to the barn. MJ was probably with his cats. He spotted him in an empty stall. “It’s starting to get dark. Are you coming in soon?”
“Is your brother still there? He’s mean. And my cat ranch is not stupid!” MJ had tears in his eyes.
“Well you’re right, Fitzpatrick can be mean, but I don’t think he intends to be. Who cares what he thinks anyway? Let’s have supper.”
“Did Ma come back?” MJ’s eye grew wide as he waited for an answer.
“I’m not sure where she is.”
“She’s under the willow tree. You might want to bring her blankets so she can sleep there. She can be mighty stubborn.”
“Yes she can. Go on in and eat.”
“Do I have to talk to your brother?” He sounded glum.
“Just ignore him for now. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
MJ raced off to the house. Fitzpatrick hadn’t been here but a few hours and already he had everyone upset. Murphy started walking toward the budding tree and sure enough, there was his wife. What was he supposed to say?
“I’m sorry my brother upset you.”
She didn’t look up. “It wasn’t only him, he just has a big mouth. It’s you who has me crying my eyes out. You know something, Murphy? I’m done. I’m done crying and wondering what I did wrong or why you didn’t come and get me. I just got over that, and accepted that you were tricked by my father. But your brother probably knows you better than anyone and it sure sounds like you are a ladies man.” She lifted her head and pinned him in her stare. “I bet if not for MJ, you’d have ridden out by now. Are you planning to sell the farm after all?”
“I already told you I don’t want to sell,” he muttered.
“Because if you sell it, I need to make plans for MJ and me. It’s a good thing Fitzpatrick came here. I was looking at you with stars in my eyes. I don’t have time for dreams, I only have time to be realistic.” She gave him a sad smile. Her eyes were red rimmed from what must have been quite a bout of crying.
He released a sigh, silently cursing his brother. “Fitzpatrick tends to exaggerate.”
“So you never sat on a woman’s porch and drank lemonade?”
“It was water.”
She stared at him. “You know I finally thought maybe you didn’t tell your family about getting married because of your grief and that just maybe my pa lied to you. You almost had me believing you. I’m the biggest fool in Arkansas. And I can’t afford to be foolish. I have my son to raise. Just give me a little warning before I have to be off the farm.” She stood and shook out her skirt to get the dirt off. She looked as though she had more to say, but she just turned and walked back to the house.
* * *
How gullible could a person be? She had believed her pa all those years ago, but then she had been coming to believe Murphy. Was she so needy that she believed lies if they made her feel good? She had to make better choices, especially for MJ. It sounded as though Murphy had plenty of women and that made her insides twist. He didn’t know what lonely was.
Thank goodness God was giving her the strength to avoid t
emptation. Not that she was alone because she wasn’t. It was her heart and soul crying out for what she’d once had with Murphy. But that was in the past, and this was a case of once something was gone it couldn’t be gotten back.
He’d said again that he didn’t want to sell her farm. If he was telling the truth, she would put her foot down and demand he build a house of his own. It hurt too much having him so close to her. She had better things to use her energy on. Then again, maybe Fitzpatrick would convince him to go home. But MJ would lose his father again. It didn’t matter what she thought, her heart hurt something awful. There had been times over the years when gazing at MJ made her heart ache for what she’d lost.
A lamp was lit in the house, and she could see Fitzpatrick and MJ talking and laughing. She didn’t want to see Fitzpatrick, but she didn’t have a choice. She dove deep inside of herself and gathered her courage. She smiled at the two as she entered the house.
“Looks like you have been having fun. I hate to say this, but MJ it’s bedtime.”
“See ya tomorrow, Uncle Fitzpatrick.” MJ ran up the stairs. She lit another lamp and followed him up.
Not thinking, she opened the door and walked into MJ’s room.
“Ma, I’m getting changed.” He looked appalled, as though she had never helped him before.
She quickly turned her back. “I’m sorry. I should have knocked, but I thought it would be too dark for you to see. Would you like a story and then I could hear your prayers?”
“Ma, I’m too old to be hanging on your skirts. I’ll see you in the morning.” He opened the door and after she went through, he closed it behind her.
Stunned, she just stood in the hall. What had just happened? Where was her little boy? Just last night he’d wanted a story and she always listened to his prayers. She walked into her room and put the lamp on the table next to her bed. Was this MJ’s way of telling her he was leaving with Murphy? No! She wouldn’t allow it. Maybe she needed to tell Murphy to leave. Fear filled her. She couldn’t do that either, for he’d win if he tried to take MJ.
Murphy: Cowboy Deceived: The Kavanagh Brothers Book 6 Page 7
